The Scarves
by Andaie
Summary: Ariadne doesn't wear scarves because she likes the way they look. Quickie mindless one-shot.


_**Author's Note**__: I don't even know why I'm uploading this. Bwhahah whatever.  
I took this from a chapter which was supposed to be a one shot like this but I put it in my story instead. Anyway since I'm deleted the story I figured I might as well put this up.  
Reviews are much MUCH appreciated!_

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Ariadne sat up in bed, after a long night out with friends. She rubbed her eyes and reached forward to stretch her back and legs. She glanced around her studio apartment with her fingers wrapped over her toes, as if she was making sure everything was in place, if you could call it that. Ariadne was naturally messy, her sketches and model buildings lying in various places around the large open space. Without glancing at the clock to her right she had a feeling that it was late morning.

She moved her right hand to her chest, to check if her necklace was still there.

It was a simple heart shaped charm that hung delicately on an incredibly thin silver chain. It looked like a small locket, but it wasn't, which was something she had loved so much about it. When she had worn it proudly, people would immediately notice the intricate design that was engraved in it and then ask if she could open it, or what was inside. Ariadne would always smile while toying with it in between her fingers, and say that it didn't open. She adored that it drew attention, because it had given her a chance to tell them about her seemingly perfect boyfriend that had bought it for her, on their 1st year anniversary.

He was clever, athletic and wicked smart. His ink black hair was what caught her eye initially, then his eyes. When they were in love they seemed to sparkle like a clear ocean to Ariadne. The moment she bumped into him on the first day of college, she was at a loss of words. It was something of love at first sight.

"Opposites attract" seemed to be their motto. He was studying some sort of math, something Ariadne had no interest in, while she was majoring in architecture but had a passion for art and culture. One would try to teach the other about their favorite subject. The pair could talk for hours on end about everything, Ariadne trying to help him develop some philosophical ideas, since he operated mostly on such logic. He would try to explain phenomenons with formulas, to which she could never really wrap her head around. They made it work anyway.

Eventually, it all became too much for the other to ignore. They both knew it was coming. It was eventual. That fact didn't make it any easier to deal with though. Ariadne was devastated when he told her that he couldn't talk to a "cloud" anymore. What the hell was that even supposed to mean?

Then, one day after the "mutual" separation, she walked in on her roommate having sex. It was something that happened often, her roommate an extremely sexual creature. She was only surprised at the fact it was him under the covers with her, and not some drunken undeclared who had nothing better to do.

He was the only man she had ever felt absolute need to be around at all times. He had become her drug. He was the only one she had ever kissed with passion, with lust. He was the only one she had ever had been intimate with. He had told her that he loved Ariadne a few times, but she wasn't naïve enough to think she was the only girl he had ever loved, or said that anyways. But he had been her only one, and to see him with another girl, a girl she had been so close to, it broke her entire world into small pieces.

She wondered sometimes if he hadn't done that, or if she hadn't walked in at least, if she could have recovered. Recovered better, maybe. Recovered faster.

A part of her doubted that.

Even months after the breakup, she couldn't get rid of the necklace. She just couldn't bring herself to the place she needed to be to move on from that part of her life. Part of the problem was she didn't want to.

Ariadne thought the move to Paris would work, studying there and the actual physical separation would take her mind away from thoughts of him. But now there was a whole new group of people that wanted to know where the necklace had come from, who had given it to her. Her mother told her to hide it, to take it off and put it in a place where it could be forgotten, however, Ariadne's fear for change threw a wrench in that idea. She decided on just wearing scarves to cover it up. There wasn't a day she didn't wear a small silk scarf, one easily wrapped around her neck.

When she had gone back home for the summer to visit family, he was back in town too. She stopped wearing the scarves, so when he saw her, maybe he would be reminded of how much she was in love with him. How he was so in love with her.

That didn't work.

He talked to her like every one of his other friends. It killed her to think that he had so easily removed all their memories, all their intimate moments as a couple from his mind, while they stuck so firmly in hers.

The scarves went back on, and she returned to Paris in the fall.

She would tell herself that she was over him, and she even started to date again, but she never could take the necklace off. She felt empty without it, like a part of her was missing. It frustrated her so much that she couldn't go a day without thinking of it not being there. She didn't want to wear it, but it was just so much easier to throw a scarf on than to deal with the pain of it being gone. She knew deep down that if she gave the effort she wouldn't have to wear it any longer.

The question was no longer what she would have to do to move on, but what she was willing to do to move on.

She sighed and rolled out of bed, she had an afternoon class today. She thought about not going, telling people she was sick, but then again Ariadne had a promising feeling about the day, despite everything else. Have to keep the glass half full right?

Plus, she had this really interesting _dream_ last night...


End file.
